Clue: Hogwarts Edition
by IfICanBeAstonishing
Summary: The Hogwarts gang gets thrust into a 1940's Clue murder mystery game, and it's up to them to figure out who the murderer is...and how to get back home. Eventually RW&HG, HP&GW, NL&LL.


**Clue: Hogwarts Edition**

by IfICanBeAstonishing

(A/N: I do not, in any way, own the Harry Potter series and/or the board game Clue. I've stolen them for a moment of creative liberty, but I promise that I will return them whole and undamaged. Possibly. If my plot-bunny friends decide not to eat them.)

**_Chapter One: What's Clue?_**

--

"Remind me why we decided to stay for Christmas?"

"Hmm, let's think. Could it be that we have nowhere else to go?"

"Oh yeah."

It was Christmas break of the trio's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and due to circumstances beyond their control, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were spending the holidays at the castle. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been called away on an Order assignment, and the overprotective Molly did not want four teenagers roaming about the Burrow on their own. Hermione's parents had flown to Argentina for a dental convention, so staying at their home was not an option, either.

"But I'm so _bored_, 'Mione," Ron moaned. They had just finished playing a fifth game of chess, and the novelty of winning against Hermione was beginning to wear off.

"That's not my fault," Hermione snapped back. "We've played five games of chess, two games of Exploding Snap, and you've already used up your Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit."  
Ron smiled reminiscently. "Yeah, that was fun. I especially liked the one on my big toe and –"

Hermione cut him off. "Let's not revisit that, okay?"

The redheaded Gryffindor rolled his eyes. "Fine. _Whatever_. But I'm still bored. There's nothing to do around here!" He pulled his lanky form off of the floor and plopped himself into an overlarge armchair, sighing.

"You know what?" Hermione said thoughtfully. "I believe I do have something for you - us - to do." With that, she turned and bolted up the staircase to the girl's dormitories.

The puzzled Ron barely had time to think 'What the-," for Hermione sprinted back down the steps, holding a large rectangular box. A triumphant smile set upon her face, she placed the box on the table in front of Ron. He stared at it, still confused.

"What's 'Clue?'"

"It's a muggle board game," Hermione explained as Ron took the lid off of the game gingerly, looking as if it would explode at any second. "You pick a character, see, and then you move around trying to figure out who murdered Mr. Boddy. Was it Miss Scarlet in the hall with the revolver, or Mr. Green in the library with the candlestick?"

Ron picked up several of the pieces, rolling them around in his palm. "Yeah, but Hermione, these are just little pawn things. They aren't really people."

"Well, of course they aren't really people, Ron, the whole game is just made-up. It's just pretend," Hermione explained, trying to suppress a fit of the giggles.

"Well it looks stupid," Ron said, now leafing through the rules.

"It looks _fun_," Hermione said, exasperated, "If you would kindly give it a chance. It was an early Christmas present from Mum and Dad."

"C'mon, 'Mione, you need more people to play, anyway." He showed her a line in the instructions which confirmed this statement. "So, while we're here and bored, I need something to do."

Hermione sighed. "Why don't you just read a book?"

Ron stared at the brunette girl incredulously, eyebrows slightly raised and mouth open in a classic You-Can't-Be-Serious pose.

"Oh, but I am," Hermione replied in a steely tone. She packed away the board game and looked up to find Ron still staring at her. His mouth was closed and he had kind of a wistful expression on his face. "Earth to Ron!"

"Huh?" Ron jumped slightly. "Sorry, 'Mione."

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed. "You really need to find something to do. Why don't you take a walk, stretch your legs…? It's not snowing too badly, yet."

Ron shrugged and glanced around the common room, which was empty except for himself and Hermione. The only other Gryffindors staying for Christmas were Neville (who was in the library reading up on his newest plant), Harry, and Ginny. The two of them had disappeared a few hours ago, muttering something about Hogsmeade and the invisibility cloak. Harry and Ginny were finally back together, after much angst on Harry's part after defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named over the summer. Besides these four, Luna Lovegood and (for some reason) Draco Malfoy were also at Hogwarts for the holidays.

"I suppose," he said doubtfully. He disappeared upstairs for a few minutes and returned sporting three homemade Weasley sweaters, one of Hermione's knit hats, and pair of Quidditch gloves. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"What?" Ron said defensively. "It's cold out there." She laughed and he stalked out of the portrait hole. Sighing for what seemed like the fiftieth time today, Hermione threw one last glance at the board game and settled herself in the unoccupied armchair with her newest read: Muggles Through The Ages. She quickly became engrossed in a lengthy chapter about America, Britain, and the glamorous 1940's.

--

Hermione blinked once, slowly, and then blinked again as the hazy common room came into focus. Muggles Through The Ages was laying face-down on her lap, half-opened. Supposing that she had fallen asleep while reading, she glanced down at her watch to discover that it was past seven o'clock. The bookworm had been asleep for nearly two hours.

'Two hours and Ron's not back yet!' she thought to herself, panicked. 'Oh God, I hope he didn't get lost in the snow.' Resolving that she would have to brave the cold and look for him, Hermione uncurled herself from the armchair and made her way up to the dormitories to find some warmer clothing.

Five minutes and two Weasley sweaters later ('Channeling Ron, much?' she thought), Hermione found herself throwing her weight against the heavy front doors in a vain attempt to get them to open.

"Darn things," she muttered under her breath, already feeling a bruise blooming on her left shoulder. She thrust the side of her body against the vast doors once again.

"Having trouble, dear?"

Hermione turned at the sound of a mystical, familiar voice behind her. "Professor Trelawney!" she gaped. The Divination teacher was not often seen out of her tower, roaming about the castle. "What are you doing here?"

The strangely-clothed woman ignored this remark. "Are you having trouble opening the door?"

"Umm, yes," Hermione said in an Isn't-It-Obvious tone. "I was just going to find Ron and –" She was cut off by Trelawney, who walked calmly over to the doors and pushed on the crack with the palm of her hand. They swung open without any trouble at all. Hermione stared at Trelawney momentarily, agape. 'This is too weird,' she thought. Shaking her head slightly and muttering, "Thank you," she set off into the moonlit, snow-covered night.

"It's going to be a strange night, dearie, oh yes," she heard the ethereal voice remark as she made her way into the snow. Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione was surprised to see that the professor had vanished.

--

"Ron? RON?" Hermione called into the darkness. "Are you there? _RON!_ Where are you?" She had lost all sense of time; had no idea as to how long she had been out searching. With only her wand-light to guide her, she had traipsed around the lake twice in a fruitless attempt at finding her best friend.

"RON!" she called again, waving her wand around so as to illuminate the bank of the lake. The worried seventeen-year-old caught a glimpse of the trademark Weasley hair about a hundred yards away. 'Thank Merlin,' she thought to herself, jogging up to catch him. She expected to find him wandering blind in the now-raging snowstorm, probably having forgotten his wand back in Gryffindor tower.

What she did not expect to find was Ron's stiff form lying underneath of a snowbank, bits of hair turned into icicles.

"What the – _oh, God_ – Ron – what happened to you?" was all Hermione could manage to make out as she stumbled up to him. By the looks of things, he seemed to have been petrified. "Ron? She poked him in the side with her toe.

He didn't move, confirming Hermione's diagnosis. She quickly muttered the spell to reverse the paralysis, and Ron stirred, blinking open his eyes. From the look on his face, he couldn't beilieve that it was her; that somebody had actually rescued him. "'Mione? What – what happened?"

Before she could get a chance to answer, the moon went dark, and the two seventh years were thrown into complete and utter blackness.

--

(A/N: Hope you like it, much more to come! Please click that little button over there in the corner to review. You know the one.)


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